A Very Weasly Wedding
by Fiona Flamingo
Summary: Even in darkness, there is light as Bill and Fleur's wedding approaches. Is Gabrille even worse then Phelgm? Will Ron finally break it to Hermione? Will Harry and Ginny reconcile? What about Luna, Neville? And whats a wedding without the groom? Find out!


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_Fiona Flamingo and the HalfBlood Princess invite you to..._

**A VERY WEASLEY WEDDING**

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**Chapter One**

_Crack!_

There was a cacophony of dishes shattering, muffled shrieks of surprise, a general buzz of murmuring and Ron's bemused exclamation of, "_Harry_! What are _you_ doing here!" as Harry Potter found himself splat in the middle of the Weasley's kitchen table. 

Harry felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, as he glanced at the tables' occupants with a sheepish grin.

Hermione, who was the closest, shot him a smile that was disapproving and amused at the same time.

"I see you passed your apparition test."

"Well, I was supposed to apparate right outside the door…but I guess I overshot a bit." Harry found a parting between Ron and Hermione's chairs and took the opportunity to slide off the table.

Ron burst into laughter, snorting a fair bit of pudding at a disgusted Hermione, as he eyed Harry amusedly.

"Ron! Really!" Ginevra Weasley, the fiery red-head next to Ron, chided. As she sidled closer to her older brother Charlie. As she did, she caught Harry's eyes and smiled a bit. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken…_maybe it could work…?_ But his thoughts were interrupted by a jovial greeting by Arthur Weasly, Ron's father. "Well, hello, Harry! Quite an entrance-"

Almost immediately, Molly Weasley, after getting over initial shock, hurried over to give Harry a motherly hug.

"Sorry about that, Mrs. Weasley."

"Quite alright, dear. We don't mind-we're quite used to it by now-" Mrs. Weasley shot a bemused look at Ron. "Why…Ron apparated without his ears this morning-"

"_Mum-!"_ cried a furious Ron, shooting a furtive glance towards the living room.

Ginny, with a mischievous smile, took this opportunity to pull at Ron's ears.

Harry took a minute to digest all this information, before glancing back at an earnest Mrs. Weasley.

"What is it, dear? You must be hungry. Come sit…" With a flick of her wand she mended the mess Harry had created and conjured a chair.

"Where is Bill? And Fleur? " Harry peered around once again, as if expecting them to materialise.

Mrs. Weasley smiled faintly, pressing Harry gently into the chair.

"Bill has some work at the bank-" Mrs Weasley gulped nervously. The table of Weaslys had gone silent.

"They still kept him-even with his condition…" Mrs. Weasley said softly. Her hands had gone very white as she shakily ladled Harry some soup.

In a shot…the events of that fateful night came flying back, causing Harry's stomach to give an unpleasant lurch. It was the night Dumbledore had died- but it was also the night Bill was to become a werewolf for life.

Mrs. Weasly realised that there was no need of such a topic on an occasion that was supposed to be pleasant. "He's doing okay. Thank goodness for the Wolfsbane potion."

It was Ginny who answered Harry's next question. "Phelg-Fleur and her family are about to arrive," she said with feigned politeness.

Harry couldn't help his surprise. "They aren't here yet?"

"Fleur forgot something and Gabrielle threw a tantrum-" Hermione finished dully.

"Now, tuck in," insisted Mrs. Weasly, serving Harry more food.

Harry had just got past his third bite of treacle tart when a resounding knock sounded on the Weasly's rough oak door.

"Phlegm and her family," Ginny declared, earning a disapproving glance from Mrs. Weasly.

Harry leaned over to Hermione, who was beside him and whispered, "so.._how is her family_?"

Hermione who was preoccupied, observing Ron slurp up his pumpkin juice and fighting the temptation to knock the goblet out his hand, pursed her lips.

"You'll see," she told Harry. "I just hope _you're _not like _him_." At this, Hermione glared pointedly at an oblivious Ron, whose response was another slurp.

Ginny, on the command of Mr. Weasly had scuttled off to open the door to greet her future relatives. Harry glanced over curiously as the door swung open and a dazzling Fleur Delacour swept in, gliding effortlessly through the sea of clutter that was the Weasly's living room with sawn-like grace.

Harry immediately felt a flutter when Fleur, with her Veela-like quality approached him. Long, silvery curtains of blonde swinging to and fro, Fleur swooped down upon Harry to drop a kiss on Harry's left cheek.

"Ah! 'Arry! Long time no see, hmmm?" Fleur withdrew from him, shooting him a brilliant smile that seemed to annoy Ginny thoroughly.

"Congratulations, Fleur," Harry replied weakly.

"Oh, please," muttered Ginny, "gag me with a spoon!"

"You mean…_sideways?_" giggled Hermione.

"Mama! Papa!" Fleur signalled to her family. "This eez 'Arry Pottair!"

Ron, who had been trying to gain Fleur's attention the moment she walked in through the door, rose from his seat, gallantly pulling out another chair for Fleur.

"Fleur," he said, as he attempted a winning smile.

Hermione stiffened, making a revolted noise under her breath as she watched Fleur reward Ron with a charming smile. Fleur primly sat on the chair, which promptly gave a loud groan before completely giving away. And so, that left Fleur sprawled on her floor, her arms and legs splayed out in odd angles and the chair cracked down the middle, much to Ginny's and Hermione's mirth.

Ron looked positively abashed.

"Infact, they're just in here…"

Harry heard Mrs. Weasly's voice announce as she led Fleur's family into the cramped kitchen.

"Merlin's Beard." Exclaimed Mr. Weasly at the broken chair.

"_Reparo_!" Hermione said hastily, repairing the chair to its original condition.

Harry, then turned to observe Fleur's family.

"Mama," Fleur beckoned a tall, elegant lady forward with wise-set eyes of sapphire and shock of purely silver hair running down to the small of her back. A long cloak of forest green streamed behind her and a thin smile was playing her lips. As much as he did not like to admit, Harry felt a strong surge of initial attraction, which he reckoned was a part Veela's power.

"Clarisse Delacour," the lady introduced herself, extending a pale white hand, her cold blue eyes fixed solely on Harry, almost to a point of extreme uncomfortableness. "And, you of course, do not require an introduction," Clarisse continued in her throaty voice.

"How d'you do?" replied Harry in an unnaturally squeaky voice,; his hand had gone all clammy.

But Harry wasn't alone. Ron and Charlie stood up simultaneously. "Shall I get you something to drink?" offered Charlie, eagerly.

"Do you want to sit…?" ventured Ron, so nervously that even Hermione looked sympathetic.

Clarisse seized Ron with indifference.

"I do not wish to fall, thank you.' She said coldly as Ron flushed a deep scarlet.

Mrs. Weasly slapped Mr. Weasly on the shoulder, perhaps with more force than required.

"I_ told_ you to fix those chairs…_" _she scolded, giving a rather embarrassed laugh.

"So, where eez the boy?" a low voice growled suddenly, startling everyone.

"_Papa!_ I told you, Bill eez busee!" said Fleur in an exasperated tone.

Fleur's father was a tall, a few heads over Mr. Weasly, with hair, Harry assumed, was once jet black, but now flecked with silver. He had bright, penetrating eyes of grey and wore a steely expression. Harry wondered if anyone in both families (excluding Bill and Fleur) were actually happy about the wedding.

Harry shook his hand briefly as his gaze travelled over to a miniature Fleur. The girl in front of him, was perhaps fourteen or fifteen with sparkling grey eyes like her father and long braids of shimmering white-gold flowing down to her waist. She flashed Harry a pearly-white smile, causing him to raise his eyebrows a little. Was this really…?

"And you remember Gabrielle, of course?" Fleur proudly pushed Gabrielle towards Harry. "She always wanted to speak to the brave hero who rescued her."

Harry could feel his neck heating up and Hermione's and Ginny's eyes boring at the back of his head.

"Of course." He said weakly, shooting Gabrielle a ghost of a smile.

Gabrielle's million-watt smile dimmed considerably.

"I'm forever in your debt," she continued graciously, bowing her head.

And thankfully so, because Ginny was gagging very openly behind her back.

* * *

As the Delacours settled in, Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were busily unpacking in Ron's bedroom.

One look at the Burrow's guest room, ( previously Fred and George's sleep quarters) Clarisse Delacour decided it would be less 'imposing' if the Delacours found a more 'at home' accommodation. This resulted in a magnificent tent with numerous turrets and towers' protruding out of its gigantic centre, decorated lavishly to Mrs. Delacour's rather expensive taste. This act seemed to put off Mrs. Weasly thoroughly, although everyone knew she was secretly relieved. Fleur, however, valiantly refused to live in lap of luxury and since she was going to be a Weasly, she would 'suffair zhee consequences.'.

Ginny had grudgingly agreed it was an admirable act on Fleur's part and perhaps she could tolerate her, if she tried.

Ron scoffed and said, "Ginny, it is so obvious you're jealous Fleur just because she looks good…."

It was a tactless statement which earned him a punch from Ginny, a sharp glance from Harry who was definite Ginny was as pretty as Fleur, if not more.

Hermione, however, gave a sniff.

"Ron," she began huffily, "you're a pathetic fool and stop attempting to sweep Fleur of her feet-it's NOT working!" she finished snippily, going back to sorting Harry's Hogwarts books. She had been in a foul mood all day because Harry had an inkling that Ron was being more of a stubborn idiot than usual.

Ron shot her disgruntled glance, before fluffing up Harry's pillow with necessary force.

"Must be _that_ time of the month again," he muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" questioned Hermione in a dangerous voice, as she stopped stacking Harry's books on the bookshelf and paused to glare at Ron.

Ginny broke the tension by pretending to be oblivious and whistling a merry tune under her breath. Harry decided to follow suit and wondered if there was ever going to be a time when Ron actually thought before he spoke.

Ron finally seemed to realise his mistake. "Uh…nothing…."

Then, stupidly, continued, "well, you always seem so angry, with that pinched look all the time. I was-"

But Ron hadn't been able to finish his sentence, for Hermione gave a frustrated shriek, snatched the overly fluffed pillow out of Ron's hand and brought it down upon Ron's head before stalking out of the room.

"What's with her?" mumbled Ron, the tips of his ears a bright red.

Ginny threw him an irritated glance and stomped out as well, muttering something about 'boys'.

Harry watched her leave dazedly, resisting the urge to ran after and tell her not all boys were the same-thought she knew that Harry wasn't, anyway. Then why was she acting as if nothing had happened between them?

Ron's mumbling however, broke into Harry thoughts about Ginny.

"Can't please _her. _I'm always doing something wrong."

Harry heaved a sigh, stowing his trunk under his cot.

"Open your eyes, Ron."

Ron gazed at him dubiously. He hadn't changed much, Harry reckoned. This was the first summer where Ron hadn't shot up a few more inches already and his hair was a red as ever and even his freckles refused to fade away.

"Why can't you just admit it?" Harry was finally tired of this game Ron and Hermione liked to play, beating around the bush about the true feelings. Harry didn't think he take one whole summer of it.

Ron coloured, predictably. "What?" he asked indignantly.

Harry sighed again and settled down on the bed, beside him. "There is obviously something…"

Ron seemed a little taken-aback. "Me and Hermione!" he asked innocently. "We can hardly stand each other-or at least she can't seem to stand me." Ron looked down at his feet.

Harry let an aggravated sigh. "Just…try…." He finally said, rising from the bed, eager to see Ginny once again. He left Ron staring pensively at the ground, as if trying to memorise every crack and scratch on the wood.

* * *

Harry had yet to experience a boring holiday with the Weasleys, but this by far was turning to be the most interesting. The wedding was scheduled at the end of July and the preparations were underway. Every conversation revolved around July the twenty-ninth. From the dresses to the decorations, the theme to the guest lists…even the auspicious aspects of the day. Was it a good day for a union? Clarisse Delacour, was indeed a master of Divination, a gazer of stars, an interpreter of charts; a seer of the future. She traipsed about the Burrow, offering her predictions of the day-some which so obviously made up to put off or insult the Weasleys.

So to was much her and Mr. Delacours' incredulity when Fleur proudly announced that she and Bill had decided to hold the wedding in the backyard of the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley agreed dazedly to this proposition, for she had never expected Fleur to be so adaptable.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, as Ginny so simply put it, was a 'proper French brat.'. Ginny had also taken to calling her Glob behind her back and Gabby (a name Gabrielle detested with open hatred) in her presence. Even placid Charlie called her a nuisance. But, what really was so irritating about Gabrielle? Well, for one thing, Harry didn't appreciate the numerous collisions he seemed to have with Gabrielle. Her simpering drove Harry to a form of speaking, Hermione baptised, 'polite disdain.' She was vain and superficial and had the knack of driving Ginny completely insane.

On the third day after Harry's arrival , the Weaslys, Harry and a reluctant Hermione were spending a sunny afternoon playing a game of Quidditch. Fleur and Mrs. Weasley were outside as well, arguing non-stop about flower arrangements. Fleur emphasising her revolt against Mrs. Weasly's choice with a vehement shake of her head.

It was to be Harry and rather broom-challenged Hermione against Ron and Ginny when Gabrielle came waltzing in.

"'Ello 'Arry," she greeted, batting her eyelashes suggestively, Harry simply raised his eyebrow in response.

"Hi, Gabrielle," Hermione said in a surprisingly cheerful voice. As much as Hermione disliked Gabrielle's ways, she always was an ardent fan of strong foreign relations. "How are you?"

Gabrielle shot a brief but bewildered smile.

"You know, _I am _feeling a leetle beet left out, zheez days…." She murmured dolefully, her grey eyes downcast.

"Oh, you poor princess," muttered Ginny sarcastically, tossing her fiery mane out her out her face.

Ron raked his fingers through his hair. Harry could almost hear him working up the courage to…

"You can join us anytime…Glob….rielle…"

Ginny stifled her laughter as Gabrielle threw him a funny look before gushing in excitement. "You are most kind, Ronald!" Unlike-" Her eyes seized Ginny in plain loathing. "-Some."

And before Harry could stop her, Hermione offered, "hey, why don't you take my place? I'm rubbish at it anyway. Harry, d'you mind?"

Harry looked her in panic. Of course, he minded. This meant he'd have to play with his _stalker!_

Hermione gazed at him pleadingly.

"Alright," he relented, "go finish your book, Hermione."

Gabrielle squealed eagerly. "How positveely dee-lightful! Thank you 'Ermy-one!"

Hermione left gladly and Ron gave her retreating back a despairing glance.

"She hates anything I like…." He said wistfully, almost to himself.

* * *

And so, the match of 'condensed' Quidditch began. Ginny, who was seeker, as well as chaser shot about at lightning speed, doing her very best for the likes of Gabrielle. But Gabrielle was not fazed. Instead, she snatched the Quaffle quite easily out of Ginny's grasp and rocketed towards Ron. Harry couldn't help cheering inwardly, as Gabrielle hurled the red ball at the tall hoop Charlie had conjured and returned victorious.

With extra vengeance, Ginny reclaimed the Quaffle and scored a goal. Harry shrank back from the scowl at the dominated Gabrielle's expression; he supposed he could have tried harder to save it…but it _was _Ginny after all.

The game continued, Ginny scoring countless goals. Although Harry didn't tell anyone, he knew his defence mechanism tended to weaken every time Ginevra Weasly came hurtling towards him, wearing that determined smile of hers.

By now, he had also got used Gabrielle's stream of swearing in a flow of fluent French; at least Harry suspected it was swearing. Considering that Gabrielle had grabbed his beater/keeper bat and was threatening to hit him with it-the answer was a likely yes.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed with a startled look as Harry dodged another one of Gabrielle's blows. Ginny flew over, wearing a satisfied smirk.

"Hey, hey…" she cried, snatching the bat from Gabrielle's grip.

"Don't hurt my-uh-Harry…" Ginny finished off, considerably pinker. When she caught Harry staring at her she mumbled, "hot, isn't it?" rather unconvincingly.

But the butterfly of hope that was flitting about into in his heart came to a sudden stop when a loud smack next to Harry, startled the wit out of him.

"OWWWW!"

It was Gabrielle. She had dropped a few fair feet, but was still holding onto her broom with one hand. The other hand had flow up to her nose.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a quick glance before swooping down to investigate. Ron was already there, wearing an extremely sheepish expression , clutching his beater bat and regarding Gabrielle with decided apprehension.

He had apparently also retrieved the Quaffle that had hit Gabrielle with such tremendous force.

"My hand…uh…lost control. I'm so sorry." Ron was saying earnestly.

"Tu es un imbecile!" shrieked Gabrielle hysterically. "Clumsee, stupide, oaf! My nose eez going to bee like zheez foravair! Foravair!"

Ron shrugged apologetically.

"Look, I can mend it-"

But Harry had seen a mischievous glint in his eye.

"It's alright, Ron. I go it."

Gabrielle immediately turned her water-logged eyes upon Harry.

"Your friend tried to kill me." She said tearfully. "And _now_ you arrive!" With a scream of frustration, Gabrielle rocketed off towards the Burrow.

"Mum's going to kill me!" Ron exclaimed worriedly before hastily setting out to tail Gabrielle.

Ginny shook her head. "That Glob is a million times worse than Phlegm."

"Yeah…." Murmured Harry distractedly. Ginny turned to leave, but Harry caught hold of her arm, so that they were suspended in mid-air.

Ginny looked back at him…almost apprehensively. "Harry-"

'Maybe I was wrong!" Harry blurted out. "That day…at the funeral…." He paused, unsure where to go.

Ginny observed him sadly, slightly wistful. "Are you always this slow!"

Harry smiled.

"So…are _we?_" he couldn't help asking.

Ginny shook her head. "I'm sorry, Harry….I have to go…er…help Ron," Ginny said hurriedly, urging her broom faster and then whipping out of sight.

Harry felt like he had been slapped…and all the air had been knocked out of him.

He could still glimpse Ginny, darting into the Burrow, her red hair streaming behind her.

He looked up, towards the sky. And what he saw…shocked him. It was an image of two bones, crossing one and other….crossing, recrossing. It wasn't there a minute ago…what had happened. Harry's heart began thudding loudly. It wasn't some Voldemort sign…was it?

He practically crashed into the Burrow because he was flying at such speed and entered through an open window.

And he nearly laughed in relief, when he saw who it was.


End file.
